


I Got You

by JolinarJackson



Series: Lights To Guide You Home [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 19:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17310455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JolinarJackson/pseuds/JolinarJackson
Summary: ”Mr. Stark?””Yes.””I’m really scared.”Tony set the cup down and reached out a hand, his fingers wrapping around Peter’s fist. He didn’t say anything.Tony is with Peter the morning May Parker dies and makes a life-changing decision when he finds himself unable to let Peter go into foster care.Missing scenes for Part 2 of the series (‘Trial and Error’)





	I Got You

**Author's Note:**

> _Setting:_ Sometime after _Captain America - Civil War, Spider-Man – Homecoming_ never happened  
>  _Author's Note:_ While outlining the last part of this series, I found a few half-written scenes which I originally wanted to use in ‘Trial and Error’, but ended up cutting from the first draft. I tried to ignore them but they wouldn’t leave me alone and before I knew it, I had written a whole new installment.  
>  _Beta:_ Shoyzz did a super-fast beta job for this one. Thank you!

Tony didn’t allow himself to cry. 

The tears were hovering in his eyes, smudging his vision, but he didn’t let them fall. This wasn’t the time for him to cry, to feel timid and hopeless and sad. 

He breathed deeply, his hands clenching in Peter’s sweater as he held him against his chest, adjusting his grip every now and again to try and find a more comfortable position, but it was as if Peter was resisting, as if Peter’s grief over May kept him in a grip so tight he couldn’t cooperate. Tony tried to be gentle but he felt it wasn’t working. He’d never learned how to do this. Nobody had been there to hold _him_ when he’d learned that his parents had died.

Peter’s breath shuddered through another of those broken, wailing sounds that Tony really started to hate because they pierced something in his chest that made his own breathing hitch. He wanted it to _stop_ , because he couldn’t _think_ and he really needed to. He needed to be able to think to figure out how to _fix_ this, how to get them off this kitchen floor, how to get Peter to breathe properly and stop sounding so broken.

But Peter kept crying and his knee kept digging into Tony’s thigh uncomfortably, Peter’s fists stayed pressed against Tony’s shoulder blades, his grip so tight that Tony was sure it would leave bruises. And Tony didn’t know what else to do but to tighten his grip in response, as if he was able to just squeeze the grief out of the trembling body in his arms. 

Deep down, Tony knew it wasn’t possible, he knew this day would leave a mark on Peter’s soul for years to come, maybe decades. Because May was gone and there was no bringing her back. And for a moment, it felt like Tony’s grip was all that was keeping Peter from being gone as well.

***

Eventually, Peter calmed. 

Tony didn’t know how much time had gone by, but the morning sun was now high in the sky, shining through the windows and towards their exhausted huddle in the very corner of the kitchen, not quite reaching them. His eyes were burning but his cheeks were dry, the tears forced away repeatedly and now finally under control. 

He sat leaning back against the oven, the handle digging into the back of his skull. Peter was almost limp in his arms, slumped against his chest, still trembling, but silent. Tony couldn’t see his face without moving his own head at an awkward angle and he didn’t have the energy to even do that. 

Trying to gauge whether Peter was even awake, Tony moved one hand, sliding it up Peter’s back and into his hair, his fingers tugging on the short strands gently. Peter shifted against him, his shoulders hitching.

”Sh.” Tony couldn’t remember ever having uttered this noise before but it came instinctually and it felt right and it caused Peter to move, tucking his hands against his own chest and curling up tightly. He sobbed quietly, but the sound sounded exhausted, hoarse and weak. It sounded like it _hurt_. 

Tony closed his eyes. ”Sh.”

***

It had to be done, so Tony took Peter to the hospital to talk to May’s doctor. 

Peter sat slightly hunched over, his hands tight around the armrests of the chair, his gaze locked on the threadbare carpet of the small room Dr. Manning had taken them to. The room tried to provide a comforting atmosphere, but with the septic smell of the hospital lingering in the air, that was close to impossible. 

Dr. Manning was perched on the chair opposite Peter, her hand on one of his, her voice gentle and her eyes kind. Peter looked like he was in pain. He looked like he didn’t want to hear what Dr. Manning was saying. 

Tony sat off to the side and he didn’t want to hear Dr. Manning’s explanations either, but he listened, just in case Peter didn’t. 

Manning finished with the same words she had started with. ”I’m so sorry, Peter.”

He didn’t answer, didn’t raise his head. 

Manning met Tony’s eyes for a second before looking at Peter again. ”Peter, I have informed authorities about the situation and somebody should be here soon to talk to you.”

_This_ caught Tony’s attention. ”Talk to him? About what?”

Manning’s blue eyes found his, patient, but before she could form a reply, Peter said, ”About where I’ll stay.” 

Rationally, Tony knew that this was a topic which had to be addressed. Peter was a minor and May had been his last living relative. However, the mention of somebody just putting Peter in a new home, replacing Peter’s environment so easily, bothered him. After all, Peter was a teenager, not a child who needed constant care. Tony could keep an eye on him in the meantime. Surely, this didn’t have to be sorted out immediately. ”Can’t this wait for a few days?”

Manning straightened, her hands folding in her lap. ”Mr. Stark, I had to inform somebody of the situation.”

”No, you didn’t. _I_ am here.”

”That is not enough, Mr. Stark.”

”It was enough _yesterday_.”

”The situation has changed.”

”So what? I’m good enough yesterday and now I’m just _not_? That doesn’t make any …” He trailed off when Peter’s hand touched him, his fingers curling around his forearm for a moment before withdrawing. 

Peter was looking at him and there was a fresh sheen of tears in his dark eyes. ”Stop,” he whispered. ”Please.” He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and looked at the floor again.

Tony felt like a jerk. He ducked his head and crossed his arms, avoiding Manning’s eyes, even as she smiled softly at him before turning back to Peter. ”Would you like to see your aunt now?” 

Peter took a deep breath and his hands clenched around the armrests. ”Yes.”

***

The sun was shining into the room as they entered and Tony felt the urge to pull the blinds shut. It seemed wrong, somehow, to have so much warmth in the room. 

Peter stood next to the bed, his gaze on the still figure of his aunt. The fingers of one hand lingered on top of May’s hand, not quite grasping, just touching. 

Tony stood behind him, ready to reach out if needed. His thoughts were running around his head, his hands clenching and unclenching restlessly. 

_This_ , he thought, as he looked at May’s pale face, he couldn’t fix. 

Peter turned away from May, his cheeks wet. He walked past Tony out of the room.

***

The coffee smelled like it would burn right through his stomach walls. 

Tony grimaced and put it down on the rackety table next to the couch. Manning had brought him and Peter back to the room in which she’d spoken to them before and left, promising to be back once the social worker would arrive. 

Peter was back in the chair he’d occupied before, but this time, his hands were hidden, his sweater’s sleeves bunched over and around them. ”Mr. Stark?”

Tony looked at him. ”Yeah?” 

”I just … I wanted to thank you,” Peter said. His eyes looked painfully red and his voice was still hoarse, but he sounded more collected than before. ”For last night and … this morning. I … am sorry for my-my behavior. The … the shouting at you and the crying and the … everything.”

”There’s no need to apologize,” Tony answered quickly. ”It’s … this is tough, kid. It’s … it’s tough.” He reached for the coffee and took three tentative sips, shuddering at the taste.

”Mr. Stark?” 

”Yes?” 

”You don’t have to stay.”

When Tony turned towards him, Peter was staring at his knees. ”I know.” 

They didn’t move for a long moment. Then Peter let out a breath, his shoulders slumping. ”Mr. Stark?” 

”Yes.” 

”I’m really scared.”

Tony set the cup down and reached out a hand, his fingers wrapping around Peter’s fist, the cloth of the sweater soft against his fingertips. He didn’t say anything.

***

Maybe it was Peter’s words that made Tony do it, maybe the situation as a whole. Maybe the way the social worker put her arm around Peter’s shoulders as she led him away to speak to him privately. Maybe the desire to fix what had been broken that was running rampant in Tony’s mind, a fierce emotion that was accompanied by a whole new set of feelings, feelings he couldn’t quite name but which caused him to act, almost instinctually. So he called Pepper and only a little while later, he shook hands with a young lawyer named Joel Tyler. 

”You were here fast,” Tony said as he settled back onto the couch, Tyler taking one of the armchairs.

”Miss Potts said it was important,” he answered, opening his briefcase to take out a notepad and a pen. ”So, what is this about?”

”Custody of a minor,” Tony said, slipping into his business persona, using his phone to call up the internet pages he’d found while he’d waited. ”Emergency guardianship, so to say. It says here that a third party can apply for this, like family friends. I’m a family friend.”

Tyler looked at him for a long moment, his green eyes searching. ”Right, I’m assuming a death in the family of the child.” 

”The last remaining relative.”

”Right. And the child-”

”Peter.” 

Tyler nodded. ”Peter. How old is he?” 

”He’s fifteen.”

”That’s very good, actually,” Tyler said, jotting something down. “His opinion on the matter will carry some weight. Okay, what exactly is it that you want to achieve?”

Tony raised his eyebrows questioningly. ”I just told you.”

”You want to be able to take the kid home with you. You want temporary guardianship, but temporary guardianship is just that: temporary. Are you also thinking about something more permanent? It would be beneficial to hand in a petition for permanent guardianship or adoption at the same time as we hand in the petition for temporary guardianship.”

”Permanent?” Tony asked, caught unawares. 

Tyler stared at him for a second, his eyes narrowing. ”Mr. Stark, did you actually think about the actions you are trying to take here?”

Had he? Tony fiddled with his phone. Had he thought about what would happen after today or tomorrow or next week? In his desire to do something immediately, right now, to keep Peter close and make sure he was okay … _had he_?

”I’ll take that as a no,” Tyler said.

Tony felt his defenses go up, his face hardening and his voice sharpening. ”This kid needs somebody _now_.”

Seemingly unaffected by what Tony knew must be a steely look in his eyes, Tyler concluded, ”So this is a gut decision.” 

”Is that bad?”

Tyler sighed. ”Mr. Stark, I adopted a toddler one year ago. Emotions aside, it was a decision that we made based on our financial situation, the stability of our relationship and our career plans. I don’t doubt that you care about the kid, but that’s a long way from wanting to _take_ full care of him, temporarily or permanently. You are going to be raising him. Priorities will have to shift while that happens. I am not going to represent you if this is a flight of fancy, because my first priority is not you. It’s the kid.”

Tony stared at him. ”I spent the morning on the kitchen floor with this kid crying his heart out. This isn’t _fun_. This isn’t something I do because I’m _bored_. This isn’t a flight of _fancy_ ,” he spat. His heart was thundering in his chest, beating against his ribcage hard enough that he felt it, hurt and fear choking him. Still, he forced the words out that started coming out of nowhere, like a truth he hadn’t been aware of until just now. “It may be a snap decision, but so was telling the world that I’m Iron Man and I have been more than dedicated to _that_. I still am. That didn’t stop me from dropping everything at the Avengers Compound yesterday to drive here because the hospital called me and told me that Peter needed somebody to pick him up. I may not know exactly what I’m signing up for, but I know _Peter_. He’s smart and he’s kind and he’s a great kid and he just lost one of the few persons in his life he has left and now they want to shove him into a house with strangers, who don’t have the first clue about him.” 

”Foster families undergo thorough background checks to make sure that they are equipped to handle traumatized children like Peter-”

”They don’t _know_ him. I _do_.” Tony stared at Tyler, trying to keep his expression hard, but he ducked his head away when he felt tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, his cheeks warming in embarrassment.

The silence stretched and Tony felt Tyler’s eyes on him. Then, just when Tyler took a breath to say something, the door opened. ”Mr. Stark?”

He looked up and rose from his seat when he saw the social worker, Mrs. Franklin, standing a few steps away. 

”I would leave with Peter now. If you want to say goodbye …” She trailed off when she saw who was in the room with him, her kind face showing confusion. ”Mr. Tyler?” Her dark eyes flickered between Tony and him. ”What are _you_ doing here?”

Tony crossed his arms, his head lowering. ”He was just leaving.”

”Not at all,” Tyler said, rising to his feet. ”I’m here to represent Mr. Stark as a client.”

Tony looked at him in surprise, as did Franklin. ”Client?”

”Mr. Stark will file a petition for temporary guardianship, as well as …” He looked at Tony.

”Permanent,” Tony said, still stunned.

Tyler smiled at Franklin kindly. ”You know the drill, Mrs. Franklin.”

She nodded. ”Yes, it’s just … Peter didn’t mention anything.”

”Peter doesn’t know yet,” Tony answered. “I was … I was still making up my mind but now I’m …” He looked at Tyler. “Now I’m sure.”

***

Peter was seated where Mrs. Franklin said she’d left him: in a quiet corner of the cafeteria, an untouched sandwich and a glass of coke in front of him. He was looking out the window next to him, facing away from Tony as he approached. 

Tony cleared his throat softly before he settled at the opposite side of the table. ”Hey,” he said softly.

”Hey.” Peter didn’t look at him.

”So, I talked to Mrs. Franklin.”

Peter closed his eyes in a slow blink. ”She’s nice.”

”She is. She said she had some options lined up for you.”

Peter curled up into himself, his gaze going distant. ”Yeah,” he whispered. He still didn’t look at him, his hands clenched, gripping one another tightly atop the table. 

Tony became aware that Peter probably thought he’d come to tell him that he was leaving. That he was handing him over to Mrs. Franklin like a chore he didn’t want to deal with. It broke his heart a little. He shifted uncomfortably. ”Listen, I … I know that this is hard. I know that there isn’t an option which would be better than … than May.”

Peter’s lips pressed together, his fingers tightening around each other. 

”But …,” Tony continued hesitantly, ”… it’s necessary.”

”I know.”

”So I …” Tony swallowed his nerves, fiddling with his phone. ”You know, I decided … I decided that I will try to have you stay with me for a little while. You know? As a temporary solution. Until … until something more permanent is found.”

Peter didn’t move, didn’t react in any way to Tony’s words. 

Tony felt his chest tighten, anxiety settling in his throat. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure that he was doing the right thing. He hadn’t even asked Peter before … would Peter even _want_ to stay with him? ”Buddy, can you … can you please look at me?”

Peter didn’t react immediately, but then he turned his head and his eyes found Tony’s.

”I’m serious.” 

Peter stared at him. ”With you?”

Tony nodded. ”Until we have a permanent solution.”

Peter lowered his gaze. ”Is that possible?”

”I hired a lawyer to make it possible,” Tony answered. ”A good lawyer. I’ve been told he’s the best. He’s working on Mrs. Franklin right now to … you know, have her release you into my care?” He shrugged. ”But … only if you want to, kid.”

”Why would you do that?” Peter asked. 

Tony took his time with the answer, knowing it was one of the most important things he would ever say to Peter. He thought about telling him that life was less lonely since he was around, that Peter was one of the last few people he had left from what was once a very extended family, that sometimes, he was in awe of the potential he saw, the similarities he saw to himself and most of all, the differences. Peter was kinder than Tony had ever been, less jaded than Tony had been at his age, despite everything he’d gone through already, all the losses he had suffered. Tony couldn’t wait to see him grow up, to witness him becoming twice the man Tony was. More of a hero than any of the Avengers were. 

”Why?” he echoed and settled on a simple answer that would convey all of that. ”Because I want to.”

Peter stared at him, his eyes searching, then he ducked his head and nodded. ”Okay.” 

”Okay?” A weight lifted off Tony’s chest and he found a smile.

Peter nodded again, looking up. ”Until there’s a permanent solution.”

”Yeah.” Tony was about to bring up the adoption, but Peter’s hands were shaking and he was pale, the skin around his red eyes looking bruised … it wasn’t the right moment. ”Here’s the plan,” he said instead, ”we’ll get you back home and some food into you and then you can get some sleep.”

Peter looked at him and his expression seemed oddly distant … or maybe dazed. Maybe shock was finally catching up to him. ”But … what about May? I don’t know …” He swallowed. “I don’t know how to organize …” 

Tony pressed his lips together as Peter trailed off. ”We’ll take care of May together, okay?” He reached out and touched Peter’s wrist, squeezing his fingers around it gently. “I got you, Peter.”

***

It was after they’d returned to the apartment, after Tony had managed to get a few slices of pizza into Peter, after Peter had fallen asleep curled up on the couch. 

Tony was back on the kitchen floor, tucked into the corner where the afternoon sun couldn’t reach him, one hand pressed against his mouth. 

His cheeks were wet.

 

END  
January 2019


End file.
